


Escale à Madrid

by C1ashi1dr



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Clones, Delphine sings, F/F, Fluff, Karaoke, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24392746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C1ashi1dr/pseuds/C1ashi1dr
Summary: Cosima only worked at the karaoke bar to get through graduate school. She didn't want to spend her evenings listening to people sing awful renditions of early 80s and 90s pop hits but it paid the bills. And if it's a angelic blonde with a voice like heaven, Cosima might make an exception.
Relationships: Delphine Cormier/Cosima Niehaus
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Escale à Madrid

**Author's Note:**

> so uh....this happened. first time writing an Orphan Black fic so bear with me.

Nursing a headache brought about solely due to the multicolored strobe lights of the karaoke bar, Cosima was glad that the person on the stage at least had a scrap of talent. They weren’t good, by any means, drunk beyond belief and swaying dangerously close to the edge, but they were fairly on key and they knew the song they were singing, which was more than could be said for half the ‘performers’ that graced the beer stained stage. 

It was Tuesday and the bar had come alive for the evening, though without the riotous applause of drunk frat boys of Saturday evenings, the place felt a little dead. Cosima was stuck behind the booth again, not that she minded. It was either that or serving drinks and if her headache was horrible while queuing up songs it would certainly be worse dealing with the drunk patrons shoving each other about. This wasn’t the classiest of bars, after all.

If asked, Cosima wouldn’t have been able to answer as to why she’d taken the job. Well, she needed the money. Getting through graduate school was hard enough, harder still when  
scholarships couldn’t cover the cost of tuition, books, and housing. But as for why a karaoke bar? And why this dump of a karaoke bar? Right place, right time, she supposed. It hadn’t been one of her frequent haunts, but it was one of the few bars that her now-ex girlfriend Emi had decided wasn’t good enough for her. That meant there was no chance that Cosima would get an awkward reunion, especially after their explosive break-up. The now hiring sign that had been posted was cute and she’d just gotten back from a terrible meeting with her advisor (Aldous Leekie, the bane of her existence, who decided that a complete overhaul of half her paper would be the best option in his ‘professional opinion.’ Bullshit) so she’d decided to take a shot.

It was pure luck that it worked. Well, pure luck and a bit of charm, which Cosima always had in supply.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts (and attempt to ease the ache in between her eyes) Cosima looked up to see that the singer was done and had stumbled off the stage. She’d have to keep an eye on them, make sure they wouldn’t hurt themselves on the way home. The next one up, a burly man with a beard covered half his face, looked to her for confirmation and she nodded, giving him her usual thumbs up before sending him out on stage. The music started, some estranged country song that hadn’t been played in years, and she tuned out the sound of his grating voice the moment he started.

“Excuse me?” She looked up at the voice and smiled in relief. 

“Scott,” Cosima said, giving him a genuine grin, the first one all night. “Hey dude, how can I help ya?” Scott had been a close friend during undergrad and had followed her lead up to Toronto for their doctorates. They’d been close friends and lab partners, with Scott always willing to fill in if she was too hung over to attend class.

“I can request for other people, right?” Scott asked, and he looked a bit nervous, shifting his feet. His glasses were a bit askew, the top button of his button-down undone, which was the most unkempt she’d seen him since undergrad. “Pretty sure someone told me that.”

“Yup, that’s totally possible,” Cosima said. “Just give me the title of the song and send them up when you’re ready. Just give me a warning first.” It wasn’t normal protocol, but she knew Scott and she owed him a few favors for all the time he’d covered for her.

He told her the song, something in French that she hadn’t even realized was on the list (it was, at the bottom, very faded. Cosima couldn’t recall a single instance of anyone singing the song) and promised that he would be ready when she texted him it was time for his person to go up.

The man on the stage stumbled off, nearly taking the mic with him, and Cosima rolled her eyes. It would only get worse as the evening went on, she knew, and the budding headache only grew stronger. 

“Up next,” she said, leaning into the small onboard mic at her little booth. She didn’t often use it, but the crowd was getting energetic, moving about with more energy than she’d seen in awhile so she drew their attention back to the stage. Why come to a karaoke bar if you weren’t going to pay attention to the singing after all? “All the way from the corner booth, please welcome Alison Hendrix to the stage!” There was a polite round of applause as the woman stood up on stage, waving to where she’d come from with a tight smile on her face.

Cosima watched her move across the stage, silently studying her. She was dressed very conservatively, in a puffy vest and long sleeve shirt and pants that reached her ankles, small flat-soled shoes covering her feet. This Alison looked every bit the soccer mom, razor straight brown hair pulled back in a punishing ponytail, a headband completing the ensemble. Cosima wondered how far the stick up her ass was, but she shook off the thoughts.

“Alison will be singing ABBA’s Waterloo. Best of luck up there!” Cosima switched off her mic, queued up the song, and as the opening chords rang through the bar and Alison began to sing, Cosima had to sigh in relief. At least she could sing, but as the seconds ticked by, she noticed Alison starting to shift her weight back and forth, really getting into the rhythm of the song.

She shrugged off her vest a few moments after that, throwing it back in the direction of her booth. With more bravado and ease than Cosima knew could even be in a soccer mom, Alison tugged the mic from the stand and crossed the stage in a single movement. 

_Oh god,_ Cosima thought, staring at her in shock. This she wasn’t expecting. As the song progressed, Alison sank more into some sort of persona, moving across the stage as though she belonged there, making eye contact with the crowd, even going so far as to summon a man onto the stage with her. He was taller than Alison and wore a simple blue button down that fit perfectly with the entire soccer mom ensemble that Alison was sporting. He ran a hand through brown hair, grabbed the mic and proceeded to sing with Alison, harmonizing with ease. He even joined in her little dance, moving back and forth, an ebb and flow of movement. It was a proper performance. And it was _good._

Cosima wasn’t used to performances being good. Sure, there were a few people with marginal talent that had swept their way through, but it was usually when they were drunk and had been goaded into reluctantly performing and as a result most of it fell flat. These two were properly talented, and as the song started to end, Cosima found herself wishing it could continue until the end of her shift. At least then it would be entertaining.

The final chords were fading out, the bar silent for once, and Cosima’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She checked it, correct in her assumption that it was Scott's text. It was time for this mystery singer to go on stage, and Cosima knew that she wouldn't be able to introduce whoever it was. Instead, she queued up the song and waited for whoever it was to take the stage.

Her fingers flew over the keys of the laptop that the bar used to keep most of the songs on. Sure, there were probably better ways to do it, but this was their way and it was something that Cosima often enjoyed. As she pressed play, she noticed someone coming out of the audience. Scott's mystery singer. Cosima would be lying if she said that she wasn't intrigued, but she turned her attention back to the laptop to make sure she'd gotten everything back. 

She took the stage, gripped the microphone. Cosima could really only see her back from this angle, even a bit of her shoulders but that was only due to the dress she was wearing, black and not tight fitting but definitely fitted to them. This little glimpse that she could see, even this little bit given to her eyes, made her grin. Blonde curls, first of all, trailed down the woman's back and the outline of her fingers gripped the mic that Alison had carelessly slid back into place. The nails were on the shorter side, but painted in a ruby red that almost shimmered in the lights of the stage. The already hushed bar fell even more quiet as Cosima waited for the track to load, and all Cosima could really hear was the sound of her heart pounding in her chest. Sweat started to bud at the base of her spine. Cosima watched them carefully shift her weight as the simple drum beat filled the air, followed quickly by instrumentation.

Then the woman turned their head to the side for a moment, allowing Cosima a glance at she profile as she started to croon out the first notes in French. She was the most beautiful woman that Cosima had ever seen, though in a way that took a moment to notice. The golden curls covered up most of her cheeks, but Cosima could see her eyes, some variant of hazel but Cosima wasn't close enough to get a really good glimpse of it. Her lips formed perfectly around the syllables of the song, her voice soft, melodic, and Cosima had never heard the song before that moment but she could have sworn that it was the best rendition she'd ever heard. She sang like she'd been doing it her whole life, her hair lit by the stage lights making a halo around her, lending her more to be called angelic than anything else. Cosima knew that this angle she was getting was one that no one else could see from where they were in the bar. It belonged to Cosima solely, and she treasured it. 

Slowly, as the song continued, the mystery woman began to sway her hips, just slightly, holding the mic with both hands as she sang. No one dared speak, even the clink of bar glasses fell away as the bar held it's breath in the presence of what Cosima could only call a goddess. Even if she didn't understand French and had no idea what the song was even about, she could feel the emotion that the singer was putting behind it, something heartfelt with a hint of longing that had Cosima leaning over her booth. She almost didn't notice when she nearly tipped the mic stand over, only able to grab it with a matter of seconds to spare. She didn't want to be the one that broke the spell.

The woman turned her head again, this time allowing Cosima to catch almost a full glimpse of her face. Her stomach ran sour with dread and suddenly her headache was back with a vengeance, pounding against the front of her head like a landlord looking for overdue rent. It was Delphine Cormier.

Delphine Cormier, the sexy, smart, absolutely terrifying fellow graduate student. They had microbiology together and on their first day Cosima had knocked over one of the samples Delphine had been working with, breaking both the test tube and any possible chance at friendship that she had. She'd not seen someone so angry since her undergrad days, when one of her teachers had found her stash of weed in his greenhouse. His fault for leaving the door open and he could never prove that it belonged to her. 

After that incident, Delphine had been nothing but sparsely polite to Cosima. She didn't make her hatred obvious, but Cosima could feel the dirty looks that the blonde occasionally threw at her and the issue wasn't made any better by Cosima's constant fumbling in the lab. it wasn't her fault she was clumsy, she just had a tendency to get over excited when explaining a subject and as a consequence, she often bumped microscopes or really anything else. Only a few test tubes had fallen to her hands, however, and she felt that it was a normal amount for anyone in a lab. 

Problem was, even though Delphine had shown absolutely no interest in anything other than brittle camaraderie brought about by the necessity of working in the same class, Cosima couldn't help the want for friendship that had quickly blossomed into a crush. Cosima couldn't help it. Delphine was so smart and so pretty and she knew so much about science. 

There had been a few times in class where they'd gotten into heated debates over ethics, what Cosima could only call fun banter back and forth that Delphine clearly saw as something other than that. But Cosima had never met someone who could match her wit for wit like Delphine could 

They made eye contact in that moment and Delphine's voice faltered. It was slight, and if Cosima hadn't been paying as close attention to her reaction, she was sure that she wouldn't have heard it. Just as well because Delphine's eyes hardened briefly before she continued with the song. There was a bit less emotion behind it, Delphine's movements short and flighty. She no longer swayed with the song, instead cocking her head to the side a bit, as though waiting for it to end. Cosima wished it would too, if only she wouldn't be privy to that moment any longer. Cosima also had no idea how long the song was going to last, how much longer Delphine would have to stand there, knowing that Cosima was watching her, however unintentionally. 

If it had been a crush before, Cosima had to wonder what it could even be classified as now. 

Thankfully, the song ended a few moments after that, and Delphine almost seemed back to normal. Cosima would certainly be giving Scott hell the moment she saw him next. There was no excuse for that, he knew how she felt about Delphine and, more importantly, how Delphine felt about her. Which was nothing more than contempt or pure annoyance.

Cosima tried to throw herself back into the job, focusing on dealing with the increasingly drunker patrons, trying to dissuade one woman from singing Backstreet Boys and a young man from perusing their rock collection. After the stunning performances of the early evening, she wasn't in the mood to listen to someone fumble their way through Van Halen. 

Still, even as she tried to focus on everything else, Cosima found that she couldn't keep her mind off of Delphine. She'd looked like a goddess, straight out of one of those cheesy romantic flicks that her mother liked so much. Golden hair and a smile that, when Cosima saw it, was full of life. Her chest ached at the thought of never having that smile directed at her, but she knew how unlikely it was. Once grad school was over and she'd gotten her doctorate, there was no telling where she'd go. The world was out there waiting for her, and she even considered taking a year off to travel, had it not been for the fact that she was barely scraping through school as it was. 

So there was a very low chance that she'd ever get to make it up to Delphine outside of the context of school, and even then she wasn't sure that Delphine would want that. After all, the time that Cosima had caught Delphine looking at her, there was only mild annoyance and contempt in her eyes. Scott, in a moment of annoyance at Cosima's complaining, had called her "a pretentious bitch" that Cosima needed to "stop fixating on" but she couldn't help it. (He'd apologized later for the outburst and she was sure that the guilt had been following him around since the exchange.)

After another three hours of manning the booth, her shift was blessedly over and she could shrug out of the stupid polo they made her wear, exchanging it for one of her signature patterned tank tops. As she grabbed her phone and wallet from the tiny cubby that had her name stickered to the bottom, she wondered if Scott and the others were still out there. The grad students love to bar hop on any day of the week that they could.

 _You just wanna talk to Delphine,_ a voice in her head said, and she shoved it away. She wanted to yell at Scott for putting her in that position, but she'd probably just end up glaring at him over a large glass of wine. If he wasn't there, he wasn't there, and she'd just go home. No harm, no foul.

With that decision made, Cosima strolled out of the backroom, adjusting her glasses as she went. On a whim, she entered the bathroom to reapply her eyeliner and wipe off some of the sweat she'd gathered over the course of the shift. Cosima pushed open the door with her shoulder and was immediately greeted by the sight of Delphine Cormier leaned against the wall, arm over her eyes as she mumbled something under her breath. 

The door clattered closed and Delphine jumped, albeit a bit slowly. Her pupils were dilated, a little unfocused and she wasn't standing as straight as she had been. A glass of wine was grasped in her hand that Cosima hadn't seen before and they stood there, staring at each other for an immeasurable amount of time. 

“Uh… great job out there,” Cosima said and Delphine jumped again, as though startled by the existence of her voice. “Didn’t realize you could sing.” She shrugged slightly, leaning against the wall closest to her. 

"I don't do it often," Delphine replied, swallowing audibly. Her grip tightened on the wine glass in her hands. "I did not realize that you worked here."

"Ah, yeah." Cosima chuckled a bit, hoping to ease the thick tension in the air. "Gotta find a way to pay for housing one way or another. Scholarships won't cover everything. And, y'know, gotta have something to do at night. Love the science but I need a break every once and awhile." At that point, she gave her most charming grin, hoping to ease some of the tension that was evident in Delphine's shoulders. 

"Oh," Delphine replied. She slumped back against the wall. "Well, it seems that you are very good at your job." There was a long awkward silence that had Cosima wondering if she should just leave. Something was keeping her rooted to the spot, however. Maybe it was the fact that for the first time since they'd met, Delphine wasn't looking at her with thinly veiled contempt. Maybe it was the clear distress on the other woman's face. Maybe it was that stupid crush that persisted in the face of everything. 

"Look-"

"Cosima-"

They broke off, sharing a chuckle. Delphine's laugh was beautiful, just like the rest of her. Cosima smiled, glad to see it mirrored slightly and she motioned for Delphine to go first. Delphine took another sip of her wine before sighing.

"I want to apologize," Delphine said. "I did not realize that Scott knew you worked here. It is a tradition, when some of the people in the lab go out for drinks, the last person to arrive has to either buy a round of drinks or participate in the gimmick of the bar. I thought it would be fun to sing, but if I had realized, I assure you-"

"Whoa, calm down," Cosima said. Delphine was working herself up into hysterics it seemed, assisted by the alcohol more than Cosima had originally thought. "It's totally chill. I mean, it's my job so I didn't really care." She took a deep breath. "Besides, I kinda thought you hated me, so..."

"What?" Delphine looked up at her.

"Y'know, for everything that's happened in lab." Delphine blinked at her, eyes wide and confusion clear. Cosima rubbed the back of her neck with embarrassment, her other hand going to wave about for a second while she thought of an answer. "We have microbiology together? Your first day, I broke a beaker? You've been butting heads with me all semester over ethics and other shit? We don’t really talk much outside of class. Well, we don’t talk at all outside of class-"

"I know, I know," Delphine interrupted. "I recognized you, but what does that have to do with how I feel towards you?" Her words were starting to slur and Cosima fought the urge to laugh at how adorable it was. 

"I just thought, y'know, since we've not really talked at all and we're constantly arguing, I just thought-"

"You thought I hated you," Delphine said, rubbing a hand over her face. She muttered what Cosima could only guess was a curse. 

"For the record, that's totally okay," Cosima said. "Obvs, you don't have to like me if you don't want to, but I'm glad you don't hate me." She watched Delphine carefully as she circled around to the little sink with the cracked mirror. As she started to reapply her signature eyeliner, hand steady, she heard a small sniffle behind her. She turned around, the makeup still in hand as she saw Delphine, tears streaking down her face. "Shit, you okay?"

"You are very nice," Delphine said. "And I did not mean to make you think that I hated you. It has been very difficult-"

"Hey, hey, it's all okay," Cosima said. "Really. I was kinda an asshat for jumping to conclusions so quickly."

"Asshat?" Delphine asked, parroting the word back to her with an adorable confusion.

"Idiot," Cosima clarified. "Maybe we can start again?" Delphine nodded, rubbing the tears from her eye with a napkin that she must have had in her other hand. It smeared her makeup, but she didn't seem to care and Cosima decided not to point it out. Instead, she closed up her makeup and shoved it into the pockets of her pants before extending her hand. "I'm Cosima, nice to meet you."

"Delphine," she replied, grabbing her hand. Cosima tried not to focus on how soft her hands were, she really did but it was hard when neither of them pulled their hands away. Finally, after the handshake had gone on for longer than was normal, Cosima pulled away and leaned against the wall.

"Nice to meet you Delphine," Cosima said. They stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. Well, Cosima had a billion things she wanted to say, all of them running through her head at a million miles and hour but she was sure that whatever sentiment she tried to give would be rejected. Instead, she tried to stare at Delphine without being obvious. This was the first time she was being afforded a proper smile, she wasn't going to squander it.

She cleared her throat after a few moments. "Anyway, Delphine, I think you'd be best going home." Wait, no, that sounded wrong. "I just-I mean," she sighed, running a hand over her face. This was going horribly. She started to gesture, knowing that she was nervous because the words were hard to form when the knowledge that Delphine didn't hate her weighed heavily on her brain. Maybe she had a chance.

"You are probably correct," Delphine said. "And perhaps I had a bit too much wine." She looked at the glass in her hand as though it had betrayed her personally. 

"Yeah, probably," Cosima said. "Can I call you a taxi or something? To make up for being such an ass all the time."

"I believe I was the euh, ass in this instance," she pushed off the wall and let Cosima steady her, flashing her a shy grin. Her hair was falling in curtains about her face now, if there had been pins holding it in place, they were certainly misplaced at this point. "But I believe I can get a taxi."

"No, seriously," Cosima said. "Let me give you a hand. A gesture of good faith or whatever." Delphine looked uncertain and Cosima turned up the charm a bit more. "Besides, I'd feel bad if I sent you home without at least catching a glimpse of the taxi driver. Don't want to be implicated for your murder."

"You think I'd be murdered?"

"You'd be surprised," Cosima said. "C'mon, let me help you out. I'm not that bad, am I?"

Delphine looked thoughtful at that, and Cosima half feared that she would unleash a torrent of insults but instead she only smiled in acquiescence, motioning for Cosima to lead the way out of the bathroom. 

She exited fairly quickly, Delphine stumbling after her until Cosima realized herself and slowed her pace, even offering Delphine a shoulder to lean on. She didn't take it. Baby steps.

When they stepped out into the brisk Toronto air, Cosima shivered slightly and glanced at the street. The rest of the bars were also fairly empty for the evening, most of them with slow-moving, thoroughly drunk residents insistent on one more drink.

Cosima flags down a taxi, glad that she can do it quickly and she sees a little wisp of smoke out of the corner of her eye. The scent of cigarette hits her a moment later and she tries not to wrinkle her nose. She'd never been fond of cigarettes, the smell always reminding her of her grandmother's home in San Francisco, an old home in the historic district that had cigarette smoke ingrained in the walls. 

Delphine is puffing quietly on the cigarette, back-lit by the street lights. It's different from the stage, which was different from the poorly-lit bar bathroom. The streetlight, and the backdrop of city lights lent Delphine a dangerous edge. The shadows of her cheeks stood in harsh contrast to the golden halo of hair about her. The cigarette sticking out from between her lips added to the effect and Delphine kept her eyes focused on some point in the distance.

To say Cosima was enchanted was a complete understatement. In the harsh light of day, she'd noticed Delphine for her work ethic, for the almost ethereal beauty surrounding her but now, lit by street lights, slightly drunk, smoking a cigarette, Cosima found herself privy to a moment that she was sure not many got to see.

When Delphine's gaze turned back to her, Cosima flushed and looked away. She needed to stop staring, it was getting obvious. Focusing back on her task of waving down a taxi, Cosima tried to clear her thoughts. Delphine was drunk, Cosima didn't want to take advantage of that. She wouldn't, it would be wrong. She needed to get Delphine home before someone did take advantage of her and, eventually, she managed to flag down a car. 

Delphine stamped the cigarette out under her foot and Cosima wanted to call her out for littering. She resisted the urge, instead holding the door open for the other woman. Delphine strolled over to her, clearly more sober than before. Must have been a combination of the cigarette and the fresh air. Delphine paused before getting into the car, regarding her carefully until her eyes softened.

"Thank you for your help, Cosima," she said shortly. "I will see you in the lab tomorrow, no?"

"Yeah, totally," Cosima said and was fully prepared for that to be the end of it. Instead, Delphine leaned in and pressed a kiss to each of Cosima's cheeks. The air around her was filled with the scent of cigarette smoke and wine and a hint of something that Cosima couldn't place for the life of her. Then Delphine was gone, in the car, pulling the door from Cosima's fingers and the car was rolling down the street and Cosima couldn't move.

Delphine Cormier had kissed her. Yes, on the cheek, and it was probably a cultural difference but her lips had been on Cosima's skin and she would savor that for the rest of time.

**Author's Note:**

> yell at me on tumblr at [@joanwolfe](https://joanwolfe.tumblr.com/) (it's mostly doctor who but i occasionally post about orphan black) thanks for reading!


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